


stand by me (until the end)

by NoHappyEnding



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 04:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8875729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHappyEnding/pseuds/NoHappyEnding
Summary: Truth is: no matter how many times they run into each other, the chanyeol and baekhyun living in the era of joseon will never find their happy endings.





	

park chanyeol, an artist, a forger, and a lover running out of time; byun baekhyun, a novelist, a murderer, and a coward who was always left behind.

 

in the ancient era of joseon, criminal park chanyeol dwindles his life away studying in a seowon, imitating paintings of other artists, and selling forgeries to contrabands; as he laments— over his family who sold him for money, for the recent suicide of his best friend— he waits uncertainly, for do kyungsoo to come back from the dead, or for a certain someone who will finally end his miserable life.

 

until a letter, of crimson blood, appears in his hand.

 

inevitably, like one of byun baekhyun’s cheesy books, he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t be with.

 

whereas the vengeful criminal byun baekhyun, who, in the favor of fate, meets park chanyeol whom he failed to save in many lives before, entangles himself in a series of interrogation and dismissal from his family, and in the sequence of events, asserts himself the role of a tragic villain. a villain who has stopped wishing for a happy ending, instead, for a happy middle and a happy start; a villain whose destructive love has pitted himself toward an ephemeral forever; a villain who has a heart of ice, and was burnt because he got too close to the sun.

 

there were other byun baekhyuns, whose lives and personalities may vary, that sent letters of regret to the present park chanyeol and byun baekhyun. not every letter reaches the same life, and not every letter instructs the same regret.  
in other lives, park chanyeol may be dragged through the streets he walked, may be executed by hanging in the town that he grew up in, may be buried under a pile of other decaying bodies of people he treasured; and the other byun baekhyun may have to watch his lover as he walk in humiliation, may scream in horror as the body drops down from the pillar, may break his fingers prying through the mass grave of dead decays.

 

that park chanyeol has died and suffered, in other lives; long before the present byun baekhyun can save him. perhaps, it would have been better if they never have met.

 

or, in retrospect, byun baekhyun would never be alone again, _if they had died together_.

❀

byun baekhyun stands under a cherry blossom tree in midst of a blossoming garden; next to him, a body lays.

 

the body belongs to a young man, handsome and mature in appearance; however, his black gown is stained with hideous blood, which still runs across his chest from the fatal wound. through the crimson light, even the petals are colored a blood red along with the corpse.

 

tugging a dirtied handkerchief into his pockets, baekhyun messily wipes away the red splatters on his youthful face; a tongue glosses over the remaining on the tips of slender fingers. with his dagger spinning around his finger like a plaything, he frowns as glances back to the lifeless corpse with distaste. the moonlight showers over him as it filters through the leaves of the tree. half of his face illuminates in red, the other crooked in shadow, as he prays a silent prayer to his gods.

 

baekhyun tilts his head back to look at the stars, unseen by the almost rust colored clouds, and he smiles.

 

_"kyungsoo ah, i have avenged you."_

 

the streets have already fallen asleep, ignorant to the terrible atrocities.  
the flames are burning bright as the soldiers run through the main street holding the scorching torches, searching for the general’s son.

 

a soldier shouts as he discovers a white silhouette running across the rooftops in clandestine. the others follows suit.

❀

as an unusual occurrence, the moon is especially crimson tonight; full and unraveled by clouds, suggesting either bad omen or an approaching occasion of importance. the dyed light of the full moon peeks through the thin parchments of the window made of yellow oiled paper. alongside the moonlight, the candle light on the side of the oak desk wavers in the cold wintry breeze of the unkempt room. stacks of yellowing scrolls roll out onto the wooden floor, due to a careless stumble by the carrier. the elegant calligraphies and paintings all scatter at once, blending into one in a monochromic blur. however, one stands out among the black and white faded scrolls in its crimson glory, stained by the blood of the writer, as red as the moon. it smelled of rust. the dark ink on the bloodied scroll still remains fresh in the pile of ancient dusty documents.

 

park chanyeol wakes up to the burning sensation of melting candle wax falling on his shoulder as he lies amongst the piles of historical artifacts— his fingers are stained with blood— in his hand, pages of paper neatly folded into a square, or in a more specific term, a letter.

 

_it's quite a traumatic incident._

 

after having fallen asleep while organizing references of poetry and painting in the teacher's quarter, chanyeol finds a queer letter in his hand, with blood still leaking from the pages to his fingertips. although it is common to fall asleep during studies, it is indeed frightening to find a bloody letter appearing in one's hand.

 

wiping the bloodied hand onto the fabric of his hanbok, he opens the letter with the other.  
each small squared character is carefully crafted with strength and precision, and all the strokes were dark and neat as the brush was neatly trimmed.

 

 _a letter written by a skilled artist in his youth_ , chanyeol remarks and begins to read:

_「for park chanyeol,  
through the help of a shaman, i have requested every deity for the sending of this letter. my name is byun baekhyun, you have not met me yet. i believe my past self will be meeting you soon at the seowon.  
i am writing this to you from ten years later in the future.  
this is a warning, to prevent what i regret the most from happening. in the time i am writing from, you will not be with me.  
my request is for you to never fall in love with me.  
do not fall in love with me.  
or else, you will die—」_

he doesn't read any further.

 

chanyeol scorns at the letter— a prank that could've easily been forged by any of his problematic friends— but still carefully preserves it in the hidden pocket of his sleeves.

 

"just for the penmanship," he murmurs to himself.

 

playfully, he contemplates the dried letter with his hands in his sleeves, and pulls himself up from the messy pile of documents.  
as he flats out the tousled fabric, chanyeol attempts to fix his hanbok, cheap and ragged with patches, making the last effort to scrape off the new pink stain of candle wax on the shoulder with his bitten nails.

 

he sighs at the failing effort. however, his ear sensitively picks up a sharp screech from the door.

 

"don't move."

 

a slender hand covers chanyeol's mouth. his eyes widen when he sees blood dripping from these fingers. the intruder stands behind him, a hand is holding his waist. he struggles to let out a strangling noise as the flaming torches pass by the seowon. through the window, the flames blur into a red sea.

 

staggering backward, chanyeol causes the weaker to stumble on the pile of the books. with the hand resting on his waist, chanyeol is pulled pack along with the intruder.

 

they fall in between the sheets of painting and poetry.

 

somehow, their hands were entangled during the fall.

 

drops of blood seep into chanyeol's skin; however, he doesn't let go.

 

their hands fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

 

chanyeol contemplates the blood splattered across the intruder's black hanbok and face. the corner of his eye innocently curves downward, and eyelashes droop over his lids. if not for the blood, the boy appears almost docile and sheepish.  
the other stares at chanyeol's face in horror, and his body freezes.

 

"are you hurt?" chanyeol breaks the silence.

 

the other hums, and turns away.

 

"what's your name?" chanyeol persists, their hands still connecting.

 

chanyeol has almost given up when the other answers in a voice almost mute, "byun baekhyun."

 

the name is familiar— chanyeol jumps to his feet and strains baekhyun's shoulders— "your name is _byun baekhyun_?!"  
heat rushes to his face as he hovers over the smaller boy.

 

baekhyun frowns and instinctively punches the bridge of the giant's nose.

 

chanyeol faints when his head hits the bamboo floorboard.

❀

sunlight peaks from the graphite clouds, but the unceasing drizzle lingers to tap on the screen window, sitting in on the lecture hall, chanyeol sneezes, recalling the illusive incident from last night. his grip on the brush loosens, staining his assignment paper with an ugly black splatter of ink. he thinks of the blood stain splattered across baekhyun's face.

 

 _byun baekhyun_ , the one mentioned in the letter.

 

chanyeol tilts his head as his mind gradually wanders from the lecture. he pulls out the letter from last night, and starts to read again:

_「on a dark night, i met you for the first time, fleeing into the teacher's quarter. next day, i will transfer into your seowon, my hands bandaged and arms bruised.  
you are kind, but please extend no kindness, so that we will not fall in love—」_

the door slides open, and all gazes in the hall fall on the boy entering the lecture hall, late. as if nothing has happened, the teacher continues his lecture as usual. all voices have drowned out from chanyeol’s ears.

 

the pink flower petals are all falling down due to the rain, and some have fallen on the boy’s shoulder.

 

_spring is ending soon._

 

he takes the seat next to chanyeol.

 

“byun baekhyun.” chanyeol nods to acknowledge the boy with bandaged hands and bruised arms, and covertly tugs away the letter.

 

chanyeol remains quiet, his mind drifting back to concentrate on the lesson. if he was to discuss the matter of the previous night, it would cause suspicion among the classmates. a person covered in blood in the dead of night is never a good sign. but he wants to protect the delicate boy tainted in wounds, even when he has proved himself to be strong with that punch last night.

 

baekhyun stares at chanyeol’s face for a while, as the latter pretends to have not noticed. his lips part in reluctance as he hums the giant’s name,

 

“park chanyeol.”

 

it was only until later that chanyeol realizes until that he never told baekhyun his name.

  
❀

“stop staring at my paper.”

 

“i wasn’t!” hushing under his breath, the giant’s face flushes as he nervously jerks his head away.

 

unamused, baekhyun inches his table away from chanyeol. the wooden floor collides with the foot of the table— a sharp creak tears through the silence.

 

the teacher lifts his head from the pile of historical books, and raises a questioning eyebrow at the duo as they bow their heads apologetically.

 

chanyeol casts a side glance at the boy next to him, and sighs.

 

_even the handwritings are the same._

 

he picks up his brush once again, dabs it twice in the dark ink, and cleans off the excess on the edge of the ink stone. his thoughts drown in an ocean called byun baekhyun, and his words are the only voice floating above the waters, echoing.

 

 _byun baekhyun_ , he writes in mad cursive as the bold black ink swirls on the white paper.

 

“why are you writing my name?” a blob of dark hair suddenly comes into chanyeol’s sigh.

 

his brush jabs the paper, leaving behind a trail of gray brittled ink.

 

 _byun baekhyun has a pair of bewitching eyes_ , chanyeol admits. in the two orbs of innocent jet black, there capture a constellation of tears and enrapture jars of broken hearts.

 

_if the letter is true, then there is no way to avoid dying._

 

 

“i like you.”

 

_it was love at first sight._

 

_impulsive._

 

after some contemplation, baekhyun concludes park chanyeol in one word. the corners of his lips lift in a peculiar way as he acts as if the confession was never heard.

 

“what did you say?”

 

“... nothing.”

 

❀

 

a bare foot drapes itself against the scuffed wood floors, which reflected a haze of lantern light from the gritty window.

 

chanyeol crouches in a chair, with one lean leg hanging down to steady himself on the floor of the teacher’s quarter. he was facing the door, as if he was expecting someone.

 

on the night of a new moon, with a lantern in hand, oh sehun visits chanyeol in the dead of night. his figure shivers from the small holes of his fraying hanbok, pieced together by rough handwork. he slides open the door to see a flustered giant, who cannot hide a face of disappointment.

 

“stop waiting for him. he won’t return anymore.” frowning, sehun blows out the candle light in the lantern.

 

the two of them are in the dark.

 

“i’m not waiting for him.” chanyeol squints, waiting for his eye to adjust to the foreign darkness.

 

“then go sleep in your room. don’t loiter around in the teacher’s quarter.”

 

“that old geezer praised me and called me hardworking.”

 

“hyung, you’re not funny.”

 

“...”

 

the conversation inconveniently whimpers to a slow death.

 

in a futile effort to continue the idle talk, sehun mutters, wrenching an unfitted smile out of himself, “i’m sorry about kyungsoo hyung.”

 

chanyeol lets out a long sigh, “sehun.”

 

the chair creaks again as the taller stands up, inching toward the lanky boy in a frayed hanbok, “it’s ok. his death didn’t surprise me at all. it’s natural to die like that in our line of work.”

 

_in poverty, we are sold to the seowon as conmen— we make replicas of artworks— we sell them.  
we are criminals.  
so when we die, no one will even care enough to find out how and when. kyungsoo didn’t expect a happy ending either. he probably got tired of living, and decided to go on without us._

 

each footstep resounds in the empty room, voices bounce off the walls.

 

“i visited the shop today.” sehun adjusts to a kinder tone, “the shopkeeper said that two months ago, kyungsoo hyung was set free by a young master, who brought him into the household of a low-ranked politician. he said hyung liked him a lot.”

 

“why are you telling me this?” retracing his steps, chanyeol stops at the desk, where kyungsoo and him used to study at.

 

“don’t you want to know the real reason—” sehun steps closer to chanyeol, “that caused kyungsoo to commit suicide?”

 

rhythmically, chanyeol taps his fingers on the desk, “what’s the young master’s name?”

 

_“byun baekhyun.”_

 

the tapping stops. chanyeol lifts his head to glare at sehun.

 

“i saw him when he left the teacher’s quarter early this morning— dressed in black and covered in bandages. i also heard that the palace guards had caused quite a commotion last night, catching the murderer of the general’s son.”

 

“sehun, you— ” chanyeol catches his breath as his heart skips a beat. once he makes the connection, it was clear as day that byun baekhyun was the murderer they guards were looking for.

 

“hyung, i promise i won’t tell. currently, you know him the best out of everyone. i just want you to ask him what really happened to kyungsoo.”

 

“and then exact a revenge?”

 

As the corners of his lips lift into a crooked smile, sehun exhales, “it’s up for you to decide.”

❀

baekhyun met do kyungsoo on the first rain of spring, at an antique shop in the alley of willows. kyungsoo was a shop assistant, who eagerly recommended the painting of _dalmado_. baekhyun knew the painting was a replica. regardlessly, he brought it at an expensive price, just to earn a heart shaped smile from the round eyed shop assistant.

 

because it was raining, kyungsoo insisted to carry the painting home for him. as they walked in the dainty rain, kyungsoo’s arms rhythmically thumped against the scroll case containing the painting. deliberately, baekhyun tilted his yellow oil-paper umbrella a bit more toward the narrow shoulders of the boy walking alongside of him. the raindrops tapped incessantly on his shoulder, but he didn’t care for his silk blue hanbok embroidered in gold strings.

 

 _i will redeem him from the shop once i have auctioned off my calligraphy in the streets,_ baekhyun beamed at the thought of bringing the round eyed boy to his home.

 

_it’s the last rain of spring, probably._

 

baekhyun holds out his bandaged hand to catch the droplets sailing out of the dawning sky, dyed in pearl white, engraved in clouds of grey. the sun inexorably rises over the horizon, yet its light only reaches the edge of a veil covering the land. the waters roll from the leeway between overlaps of leaves into the creases of his hand, and idly entwine onto his marked wrist. the blue bruises on his arms have faded, but the cuts on his hand remains.

 

the blossoms of the tree have already wilted; nourished by the spring rain, the green leaves signal the coming of summer. languidly, baekhyun dozes into a nap next to the root of the tree, under the umbrella of the abundant branches and leaves.  
it’s been weeks since he had entered the seowon. compared to others at the seowon, baekhyun’s presence is unfitting. for a student with a wealthy background, he should be studying to pass the imperial examination. however, he has been skipping classes and failing all the exams the teacher had been giving out.

 

he isn’t here for such a profane reason.

 

“skipping class?”  
a giant hovers over him, holding a red umbrella decorated with paintings. a raindrop drips from the tip of the umbrella onto his face.

 

_so it’s you, again._

 

“with you.” baekhyun smirks at the giant, and holds out a hand for chanyeol to pull him up.

 

“you are the one who is failing.” despite his retaliation, chanyeol clasps his hand with the older’s.

 

as baekhyun intertwines his fingers around, he mischievously jerks his arm backwards, causing the unsuspecting giant to fall.  
flustered, chanyeol loses grip of his umbrella and falls into the older.

 

the red umbrella rolls onto the pavement.

 

“now you are falling.” baekhyun chuckles.

 

his laughters are like the sun on a hot summer day, with eyes cold like ice.

 

chanyeol cranes up to steady himself. his pink cheeks are puffy from indignation. their legs overlap each other’s.

 

“did you know a person named do kyungsoo?” chanyeol asks, out of the blue. perhaps, it was his initial intention.

 

baekhyun’s laughter fades, and his smile is stuck in an awkward grin.

 

“...yes, he was my page boy.”

 

“how did he die?”

 

their idle chats suddenly turns into an interrogation. baekhyun can feel beads of sweat sliding down his neck along with the rain.

 

“he committed suicide.” he turns away, and his eyes were downcast, as he mumbles to himself, “the day he died— it was sunny.”

 

hastily, chanyeol doesn’t want to ask him the reason anymore. nothing matters to him more than byun baekhyun. he can see the water flowing in the ocean of the other’s eyes. he can’t describe this feeling, but there is an overwhelming desire to embrace the person in front of him.

 

“are you going to tell me the rest of the story?” he murmurs, gently.

 

“chanyeol,” baekhyun calls out his name, “were you his friend?”

 

“we have been together since we were children.” chanyeol’s voice trembles, as staggered breaths fill in the silence, “he still wrote to me a week before he passed.”

 

baekhyun swallows intently, and his cracked lips part.

 

“while i was away on a trip, my father sent him to the governor’s house to run an errand. since that day, he hasn’t returned to my side. it was apparent that the governor’s son had taken a lustful interest in kyungsoo, but i didn’t know my father had sent him without my consent… my kyungsoo… he hates to be touched by others...”

 

“i came home to a dead body.”

 

he remembers the way he shouted at his father for the first time, how he stayed in bed for five days because of the bruises from his father’s beating, and every words he said as he kneeled in front of kyungsoo’s grave in his garden for three days.

 

ever since then, he has stopped counting the days.

 

the place next to his shoulder has emptied. the person, who should’ve always stood by his side, has walked out of the shelter of his umbrella, and disappeared into the rain.

 

the rain would never end; he became alone inadvertently.

 

whether the sun rises or descends, his nights never dawns into day. baekhyun shuts his eyes, and the gentle angles of his face restrained as his voice became hoarse.

 

his world belongs to the darkness.

 

the pitter-patter rings out in the distance between the rustles of leaves. chanyeol encircles his arms around baekhyun’s neck as his head locks onto the trembling shoulder. he tilts his chin, and whispers into the older’s ear,

 

“in the short time that you spent with kyungsoo, it must have been the happiest moment in his life. with you, he was truly free.”  
his thumb rubs circles into baekhyun’s back as comfort, like ripples in the puddles of rain. he says, “it’s not your fault.”

 

wordlessly, baekhyun leans in and buries his head into chanyeol’s warm chest, and listens for his heartbeat.

 

_thump._

 

“ _liar_.” he stammers, “it is my fault.”

 

chanyeol doesn’t refute him, but baekhyun’s voice is enough to strangle his heart. as his heart constricts against his chest, pushing sobs to escape his throat, he remembers the letter.

 

_i shouldn’t be kind to him. i shouldn’t fall in love with him._

❀

“wait here.”

 

under the shelter of the lush tree, baekhyun watches as chanyeol steps into the rain, picking up his umbrella.

 

because of the distance, all he could have made out from the blurry figure was the dark frizzy hair that rest lumpily against the giant’s forehead, damp from rain. as chanyeol steps closer, his facial expression becomes unreadable. the umbrella casts a shadow on his face.

 

chanyeol stretches his arm out and extends the umbrella to cover the smaller. his own glassy mahogany brown ones gaze into baekhyun’s orbs of clouded ink.

 

in those ocean eyes, there isn’t a single trace of tears for the perished. perhaps, his heart is really as cold as ice.

 

somehow, chanyeol feels sorry that he asked about kyungsoo.

 

squinting up at the taller, baekhyun recalls the height difference between them, and he doesn’t like it. he stands up, tiptoed; he grabs the collar of chanyeol’s ragged hanbok.

 

“you are too tall.” under his breath, he whispers.

 

he sees the patched cloth, and lets go of it. the heels of his feet settle back down onto the wet pavement.

 

“we are skipping class today.” chanyeol announces in a coercive cheerful tone, “where do you want to go?”

 

baekhyun finds his awkwardness amusing, for a second, he genuinely wanted to laugh. _he can’t._

 

there is a sadness that sinks to the pit of his stomach, that he cannot let go. it speaks to him in the silence, and it warns him: _to not be happy again._

 

“somewhere with loud noises and lots of people.” he says, “the seowon is too quiet.”

❀

in between the timeworn back alleys and desolate teahouses, streams of muddied water run under the strolling feet of the two strays, escaping the schoolyard as the ebony clouds cast over the last rays of the sun.

 

the two arrive by the busy main streets earlier than baekhyun had expected, for the seowon is isolated from the town.

 

“as expected, you do know all the secret short cuts from seowon to the market place.”

 

chanyeol turns away his face in humiliation, and replies with a rumble of hushed protests, assuming that his companion cannot hear the objections, “do i actually look like someone who skips school often? i am a good student—”

 

baekhyun smirks, holding his chin as he contemplates the mumbling giant.

 

“it seems that i have corrupted you.” he asserts out of the blue,smiling earnestly. his eyes spark a quick glint of innocent mischief and immediately fades away to his usual composure of calm melancholy.

 

the giant stares blankly at his companion, thinking that he has misheard those words.

 

“did you just say—” chanyeol blurts out as baekhyun promptly slaps his palm against chanyeol’s mouth.

 

“shut up.”

 

“...”

 

despite the devastating weather, the food stands and street carts are still in business. the yelling and chanting of advertisements evade the sound of the pouring rain. the streets are in a festive demeanor, as the commoners prepare for the chopali lantern festival in the next month.

 

as they saunter by the food stands, chanyeol notices baekhyun's lingering glances toward the kkultarae stand.

 

“ah, my grandma used to sell kkultarae in the food stands.” he comments, tugging on a strand of damp brown hair from his forehead.

 

baekhyun takes notice of the use of past tense, and remains quiet for a while.

 

“were they delicious? i never had them before.”

 

chanyeol chuckles and replies, “i don’t particularly like sweets.”

 

"that's unexpected of you." he has always assumed his companion to be an overgrown child in disguise, with a childish personality and taste.

 

as the two reach the foot of the bridge, chanyeol shoves his oiled paper umbrella into his companion’s hand hastily.

 

“baekhyun, please wait for me.”

 

his smile is lopsided, distracted by a certain memory he doesn’t want to remember. chanyeol leaves the umbrella in baekhyun’s hands as he dashes out into the cascade of water, folding his large palms over his head to cover himself from the rain. the large droplets of water pierce his dainty skin as he runs across the slippery path. his back becomes hunched from the weight of his soaked clothes.

 

baekhyun clutches onto the umbrella in his hand, and disdainfully watches the tall figure disappear from his sight.

 

_he’s alone again._

 

in the distance, the muddied river rushes to meet the algid white sky as droplets sweep across the sky, dripping into the the torrent. the achromatic town vanishes under the waterfall.

 

a line of soldiers march from the other side of the bridge. distinctively, baekhyun hears the exchanged discourses and glances from the passersby about the murderer of the general’s son. there’s a drawn portrait in the hands of the soldier in the front. although obscure, he distinguishes the resemblance of his own features from the poured ink. fear envelops him like a soundless tsunami.

 

baekhyun casts a glance around for the figure of the clumsy giant, but the crowd of pedestrians has blurred his sight.

 

“sorry.”

 

he whispers, as if chanyeol can actually hear his apology.

 

he dashes out of the path of the soldiers, and blends into the sea of spectators. the watery walls of a tsunami is threatening to  
swallow him whole as sounds of the people gradually grow distant. the familiar scene is casting on the window of his consciousness again and again.

 

_kyungsoo is hanging from the beam of his bed, with a rope tied to his neck. his body is stale, and his eyes are closed._

 

he remembers them all: the lights, the smells, and the beating of his heart. the unquenched vengeance seizes his heart; although he had already murdered the general’s son. once again, his madness is telling to take revenge.

 

_kill them. it was their fault that kyungsoo died. they deserve to die! all of them!_

 

as his feet staggers through the unbearable crowd, the air grows thin and he finds it troublesome to breath. amidst the insanity, he remembers the lean figure of a certain giant who asked him to wait for him. out of breath, he lies against the corner of a surreptitious backstreet, holding the red umbrella over his body.

 

“... he will never find me this way.”

 

sounds fade out, and he is completely swallowed in darkness. his body is stiff as if there are black ink poured all over. all he can hear is the murderous voice inside his head and the pounding against his chest.

 

from the stitched inner pocket of his overcoat, his hand feels for a familiar crimson letter. at first, he didn’t believe in the time-traveling letter, but when he met park chanyeol, he knew exactly who the letter was talking about. his trembling hand unfolds the letter to read it again, as he did many times before to steady his toppling heart:

_「for byun baekhyun,  
as your future self, i send this letter from ten years later. when you receive this letter, you may still be mourning over kyungsoo’s death. the purpose of this letter is for your to find hope in this dark life, and undo the mistakes i have done ten years ago.  
i once said that kyungsoo was my reason to live, but when he had suffered and died, i only kept on living, leaving behind a trail of bloodshed and violence. if circumstance were the same, i believe you, my past self, will follow form in exacting your revenge upon the general’s son. even ten years from now on, i am still a coward like your present self, who knew nothing but vengeance.  
my only and utmost regret was that I did not die with the person I loved the most— he was my reason of living.  
that person was not kyungsoo.  
his name was park chanyeol. coincidentally, he was also kyungsoo’s best friend.  
if fate allows, you will find him and fall in love with him again and again.  
he had the prettiest and the brightest eyes in this world, and his smile was kind and without malice, tinted with a hint of melancholy. he promised that he will follow me till death. in fact, he did follow me to the death as i kept on living.  
this time, please give him happiness.」_

as he exhales again, the darkness is long gone. his throat is dry and his hands feel numb, but the wooden stick of the umbrella reaffirms the reality of a world. painstakingly, he folds the letter back to its seams and holds it to his heart.

 

baekhyun doesn’t know what love means— even when he was with kyungsoo, he thought it was being with someone who will always make him happy— until he has met chanyeol, who has redefined love for him.

 

_this time, i will give you happiness._

❀

when chanyeol has returned to the foot of the bridge with a freshly made kkultarae in his hand, baekhyun was long gone. gathered from the conversations of the pedestrians, it seems that the soldiers parading around for the murderer of the general’s son had just passed through the bridge. baekhyun must have fled at the sight of the marching soldiers.

 

_so he really did exact a revenge..._

 

an unsettling urge of panic stirs in chanyeol’s chest, as his feet run across the shallow puddles in the street, splashing water up onto his shoes. his mop of brown hair sticks to his cheeks and shoulders as the spring tide soak his skin over the pressing fabric against his body.

 

chanyeol stops in his path in thoughts.

 

_he will be fine even if i don’t search for him. if i continue to help him, i will inevitably fall for him._

_byun baekhyun, said he wished that we didn’t fall in love._

 

reaching into his damp sleeves, he takes out the letter to read the last paragraph that he never had the chance to finish,

_「however, if you are the brave park chanyeol that i knew. you would never avoid death like a coward.  
or perhaps, i am too selfish to let you go. if i were to follow the usual plot of romance novels at times like this, i should write hateful words like ‘i hate you’ or ‘i will never love you’.  
i am a coward and i’m sorry that even after ten years, i am still selfishly living on without you.  
in this lifetime, live as you will.  
when you eventually come to pass, i wouldn’t mind if you were to haunt my soul with your ghost.  
in remembrance of you,  
byun baekhyun」_

“chanyeol! park chanyeol!” he looks up as a figure approaches from the other end of the crowd, holding a distinctly red umbrella. waters are spilling down his cheeks, he wonders if they are from the sky or his eyes.

 

In an ocean of faces, he catches baekhyun shyly smiling: his smile is radiant like the sun, whispering a promise full of warmth in a world of sadness.

 

chanyeol steps forward in his completely soaked clothes, and emerges into the crowd.

 

the two wrestle through the crowd as they struggle closer toward each other; until they can undoubtedly count the stars in each other’s eyes.

 

baekhyun lifts up his face, and stretches out his other hand, holding a handkerchief. chanyeol ducks under the roof of the  
umbrella, leveling his face with the other.

 

“why are you crying, you soft hearted dimwit.” baekhyun mutters as his hand caresses his companion’s face, gently wiping away the waters, drying the strands of hair.

 

he grins widely and says, “are you that worried about me?”

 

chanyeol reaches for baekhyun’s handkerchief, and in turn, wipes away the waters on his face.

 

“no,” he replies, “it’s just the rain.”

 

so baekhyun smiles knowingly, “me too.”

❀

after chanyeol explained the circumstances of kyungsoo’s death and baekhyun’s arrival, sehun’s hostility ceased, and the three of them quickly became friends. sometimes, chanyeol would even sulk at the closeness of the two. sehun teases that he was jealous because baekhyun wasn’t roomed with him. regretfully, chanyeol only realizes until later that baekhyun and sehun actually share a room in the seowon; likewise, he used to share a room with kyungsoo. each dorm has a special name assigned to it, as his was the boudoir of flowering bamboo, and baekhyun’s was the chamber of shattered glass, for the building’s windows were cut into zigzag shapes like they were shattered.

 

compared to his own dorm, chanyeol preferred the teacher’s quarter, which always smelled like spilled ink, yellowing papers, and aged wood.

 

“a smell of inspiration.” sehun quotes, vexingly.

 

today, however, isn’t the time for rambling complaints. because of the account of a soldier’s witness of the murderer slipping into the seowon, each students are held in quarantine until each dorm is investigated.

 

“what about the student that entered the seowon recently?” a soldier, one particularly named kim jongin, is responsible for chanyeol’s investigation, as the interrogated sits cross legged on the bamboo mats.

 

“you seem to know him.” he leans closer, in an attempt to gather the other’s loose attention span.

 

“not really.” chanyeol’s gaze thoughtlessly sinks into the spine of a book on the desk in front of him, tattered with strings. his  
hand is catching a loose strand of brown hair, and pulling on it in repetition.

 

“look, park chanyeol. although we do acquaint with each other because of the contrabands and forgery business, treat this seriously. it is the investigation of a suspect who have killed the son of a general. if the general is unhappy, even the emperor can’t do anything about the military.”

 

chanyeol tilts back in his wooden chair, and shakes his head in disagreement, “that’s not any of my business, is it?”

 

his chair squeaks as it settles back onto the floor, and his expression darkens, “it’s not as if you had seriously investigated do kyungsoo’s case for me when i asked you, either.”

 

jongin looks away, sulking, “so did you find out about that —”

 

“yes, despite your unreliability.”

 

chanyeol lifts up one of the paper weight on the desk and presses it against the thin paper, smoothing out the creases.

 

“park,” jongin grits his teeth as he considers the possibility, “let’s not make this a personal business. but, considering the circumstances, you are under suspicion.”

 

“i already know that. next, do you want to do a body search on me since you have already ravaged my room?” he stands up, and languidly gestures toward the disheveled piles of scrolls and paintings that once hanged upon the yellow papered wall.

 

“please pardon me.” uncomfortably, jongin pats his palms around chanyeol’s loose rags, and reaches into the sleeves for any hidden objects.

 

he finds some coins, a crimson letter and a handkerchief, embellished with a bamboo pattern. as he inspects the content of the letter, the suspect’s cheeks were flushed red, as he can see that the letter was written in a curious manner.

 

“it’s sehun’s prank on me.” chanyeol explains with a burning blush.

 

despite his suspicious blush, the embroidery on the handkerchief was further peculiar. unless a certain female admirer had  
personally sewed for him, chanyeol should not own such an expensive item, especially when a familiar handkerchief was found at the scene of the murder.

 

the suspect notices jongin’s frown, and deduces that something was wrong with the handkerchief that he has taken from baekhyun at their escape from the seowon.

 

“is this yours?” jongin raises the white fabric in question.

 

chanyeol reaches to retrieve the it and replies, “yes, i bought it in the streets.”

 

casually, jongin tosses the handkerchief back to him as his gaze grows cold.

 

“park chanyeol, you are clear.”

 

surprised, the suspect fails to catch the fabric as it flutters to the ground.

 

before exiting the boudoir of flowering bamboo, the soldier gives a look of warning, “just so you remember, i am still your friend, so please be careful. it’s a warning.”

 

the bamboo mat squeaks from the weight as the door slides close.

❀

after the soldiers have exit the chamber of shattered glass, sehun lets out a sigh of relief.

 

“i hope they won’t notice the paintings…” he murmurs under his breath as he recovers several books and scrolls underneath the bamboo mat he was standing on.

 

amused, baekhyun leans in to take a closer look, “forgeries?”

 

sehun nods, and replies, “for students like chanyeol and i, we were sold by our families to the seowon to produce forgeries. as  
students in name only, we imitate the well known dead, and steal their intellectual wealth. it is a luxury to one day to produce and sell paintings of our own.”

 

“sehun,” baekhyun asks, out of curiosity, “do you like art?”

 

the younger only can smile helplessly. he says as he thumbs through the pages of the loosely bound book, “no, not really. to me, this is only a skill required to earn a living. the one who has always cared too much was chanyeol. he always pours all of his feelings into each stroke. at first, the teacher couldn’t even bear to tell him that he was only studying to… steal other’s merits.”

 

crouched on the floor, he starts to restack the books the soldiers had rampaged through earlier.

 

“out of all of the students the teacher has taught, chanyeol is the one who is the most attached to the world, and the most talented. it’s such a waste.”

 

as baekhyun listens attentively, he thinks of chanyeol’s cursive writings of his name on the first day of class, and remembers  
how beautiful and special his own name looked. sometimes, he wishes that he knew chanyeol like sehun does, to know the things he likes, and the things he dislikes, to share hobbies as well as memories.

 

sehun nibbles on his bottom lip dejectedly. he says, “hyung, i don’t think i have much time left.”

 

"it's just a feeling— but we can never know when will the bad things happen." the corners of his lips lift up lopsided, "i'm worried about chanyeol, that he will be lonely again."

 

"don't say such depressing things like an old man."

 

“i want you to promise that you will always be with chanyeol.” breathlessly, he mumbles, bashfully, yet sincere.

 

baekhyun hums, as he stacks a book on another, “i will.” he looks up.

 

“seems like the one who cared too much was you,” half-heartedly, he teases, “did i steal chanyeol from you?”  
and he hears sehun state, dryly, “he was never mine.”

 

there are no reply as if the answer was never heard, and baekhyun keeps the silence.

 

_even when my feelings are not returned, i still care the most for you. i am happy as long as you have someone by your side.  
chanyeol ah, don’t be alone anymore._

❀

chanyeol has never suspected that one day, his life at the seowon would come to an end.

 

all of them are dragged from their room to the garden, where the soldiers arches back their bows, preparing for execution. his teacher lies under the cherry blossom tree that is still flourishing fervently, but the man is lifeless, and his back was tore open by a struck of the sword. there are quiet screams and sobs surrounding him, from the saddened souls of his classmates, who are forced to kneel on the hard pavement.

 

the soldiers are tossing books and paintings into a pile of firewood, as one of them holds a torch that lights up everyone’s fearful faces.

 

chanyeol looks to the left, and sees jongin, who is tied to the ground, mouthing a silent apology.

 

the soldiers did not find the murderer hiding at the seowon; instead, they found the illegal transactions between the students and the contrabands.

 

as the real perpetrators are bound to the ground, the sons of the wealthy are guarded by the soldiers to watch on the sideline. he lets out a breath of relief when he finds baekhyun standing amongst them.

 

the captain of the soldiers hold up the book of the accountant in the air and laughs, “you should thank your teacher that he has kept a clean account of those who was involved in this scandal, otherwise,” he slams the book to the ground, “we can never tell the real criminals from the innocent students, right, kim jongin?”

 

jongin keeps his composure, gaze levelled ahead, unwaveringly.

 

sehun shifts closer and elbows chanyeol on the ribs, whispering, “baekhyun told me to wait for the signal to escape.” before a soldier had beaten him to the ground again.

 

“what signal?” chanyeol squints at the younger.

 

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a lithe figure dart across, wrangling the torch out of the hands of a surprised soldier.  
he comes to a revelation that baekhyun was pretty strong, considering that he had single-handedly killed the son of a general and got away from the soldiers with only a few injuries.

 

chanyeol eyes sehun as they both quickly get up from the ground.

 

baekhyun throws the torch into the face of the captain, who follows with a horrendous scream.

 

on the afternoon of a hot summer day, the flames of the torch light up the trees in the garden, as they spread through like a conflagration, setting the entire seowon into utter chaos.

 

the students, in unison, started running for an escape out of the gates.

 

some were instantly shot by the arrows of the archers, but the others managed to writhe out of the grasps of the soldiers and successfully escaped.

 

chanyeol first saw the sudden terror in the ember eyes of his young friend.

 

sehun rushes toward him, pushing him out of the path of an arrow.

 

he falls. knees hit the ground.

 

chanyeol naturally runs back to him, only to be pushed away.

 

“go!” he hears the younger stutter, struggling to wrench out another breath.

 

“no, i won’t go without you.”

he relapses, pulling sehun up by his arms.

 

the brilliant flames emit onto his face, as the younger falls out of his arms. a sword has pierced his side.

 

sehun chokes out a splatter of red liquid, and smiles at him, for the last time.

 

_you were always smiling. even when you frowned at others, you always wanted to infect me with your unfitting smiles.  
you smiled at me too much, sehun ah.  
yet i never looked to you.  
in your next life, you don’t have to be forced to be happy anymore— i will definitely smile for you._

 

sehun’s finger taps on the ground, but chanyeol doesn’t see as he turns as his back.

 

with his last breath, he writes, _park chanyeol_.

 

❀

 

chanyeol stands on a hill, far far away from the place rising up in smoke and flames to the gray moon.  
in the hot breeze of a summer night, he hears voices of the souls of his perished friends in a high place of the sky. in amidst those voices, he hears kyungsoo’s soft humming, and sehun’s gentle laughters.  
but they are the perished, he can only hold out his palm, and stretch his arm toward the sky to grasp a strand of void.

 

baekhyun sits on the edge. the sleeves of his hanbok catch the wishes of the empty souls as the wind blows past him. he hugs his knees to his chest, muttering to himself in a low voice.

 

chanyeol sighs, and steps closer to the smaller.

 

“let’s go.”

 

baekhyun grits his teeth and presses his lips together. he nods wordlessly.

 

_a part of him says, it’s all my fault. i did this to them, all of them.  
kyungsoo.  
sehun.  
only if i didn’t exist._

 

the night is dark, both of their faces are illuminated by the light of the flames and the ashy white room. they both left behind the crimson letters at the seowon. chanyeol sighs, and rests his hand on his companion's head.

 

baekhyun is still, for a moment, his expression can almost pass for calmness.

 

“‘things happen to all of us. death is inevitable. they just passed a little earlier than we had expected.’ i said those things to myself.” chanyeol attempts at a crooked smile, only to break down in sobs.

 

“but every time, i just become more and more lonely.”

 

“baekhyun ah, you are all i have left.”

 

his knees weaken as he hugs baekhyun to his chest.  
deliberately, baekhyun’s hand clutches tightly onto the other’s ragged hanbok.  
“i will stay by your side no matter what.”  
soft whispers eventually break into agonizing sobs.

 

_i can’t keep on pitying myself like this. i promised to stay by him until the end._

 

“i love you.” his voice muffles into staggering syllables.

 

_love is undefinable. but in this world full of tragedy and suffering, the one that makes me want to continue to live, in this sad sad world, is my lover._

 

the two of them stood there, side by side, silently watching the remains of the seowon rise to the silver moon. until the newly risen sun shines upon it, robbing it of its brightness. until the ashes of their friends become the wind, that sings songs as it pass by their side.

  
❀

the end of summer approaches, as the lanterns float into the night sky, carrying the wishes of the people of joseon. during chuseok, separated families are united to celebrate the holiday season.

 

this year, baekhyun, who cannot return home, celebrates chuseok with chanyeol, who no longer has a home. the portraits of them are still posted on the gates of the town they used to live in, as the soldiers still march every morning in search of them.

 

“do you miss your parents?” chanyeol asks, nibbling on a piece of rice cake.

 

baekhyun nods, and replies, “i’m worried that my wrongdoings will affect them, although i was kicked out for disobeying the law.”

 

his companion laughs, “i can’t believe there are still households who follow the law so righteously.”

 

baekhyun stink-eyes him, “this is why i grew up so rebellious. i was locked in a household full of confucius followers.”

 

“what did you write on your lantern?”

 

“for park chanyeol to grow shorter every year.”

 

“good. i wished for byun baekhyun to be forever shorter than me.”

 

“liar.” the smaller remarks, as he leans over to contemplate one of the crafted mirrors in the street shops.

 

chanyeol also hovers over to tease baekhyun’s taste in apparently useless things.

 

they stand so close that the long sleeves of their hanbok touch once in awhile, as if the two hands hidden beneath those  
sleeves were holding. the passerby even whispered and mocked the closeness of the two companions.

 

baekhyun discernibly catches onto those indiscreet comments, and shifts his position so that they eventually drifted apart.

 

“baekhyun —” chanyeol looks to his right out of habit, but doesn’t find his companion who now stands behind him, in a distance.

 

“you are walking so slowly.” he sighs, and falls back to walk next to baekhyun.

 

“chanyeol, if we walk too close, people will thinking we are a couple.” the smaller whispers in a hushed tone, as he moves even further, “that’s embarrassing.”

 

chanyeol pauses for a slight moment.

 

after the hesitation, his eyes lit up, even brighter than the flames of the lantern.

 

he skips next to baekhyun, and takes his hand.

 

“who cares about what people thinks.”

 

the two hands curl around each other tightly.

 

 

_these are the happiest days of their lives._

 

in retrospect, chanyeol wishes, for byun baekhyun’s happiness.

 

and baekhyun also writes on his lantern, to be with park chanyeol until death.

  
❀

“i told you to not drink too much.” chanyeol mumbles to the drunk baekhyun in his arms, flinging a frail arm over his shoulder. they walk side to side on the streets of a foreign town in the autumn rain.

 

however, baekhyun obnoxiously pushes chanyeol away as he runs out into the sprinkling rain, stupidly spinning around and around.

 

“chanyeollllll— chan— yeol!” he giggles, wobbling on his feet.

 

the giant in question rushes to his side, and holds the umbrella over them, “stop spinning, baek—”

 

baekhyun jerks the collar of chanyeol’s hanbok toward himself, and positions his lips in front of his. their faces are incredibly close, so close that chanyeol can smell the alcohol in his awful feverish breaths and the rain in his damp hair.

 

the smaller merely stands still, smiling childishly, and repeating the syllable “yeol” skittishly over and over again.

 

chanyeol thought the drunk baekhyun would be a crying mess, but he was just a like child, mumbling indiscernible words, flinging himself into other’s arms and asking for hugs.

 

peeling behind the many melancholy masks of baekhyun, he is just a docile boy at the core.

 

he hugs the drunkard close to his chest as the umbrella tilts lopsided in his hand, just enough to cover their faces.

 

baekhyun stands on his tippy toes, and whines, “you are too tall.”

 

chanyeol remembers that he had said those same words many months ago, in the garden of the seowon, under the cherry blossom tree.

 

grinning, the smaller tilts his chin and pecks the bridge of chanyeol’s nose.

 

the giant almost screams— baekhyun’s— lips— his nose—

 

“we are outside, baekhyun.” he chides gently.

 

“who cares,” baekhyun sulks, and hugs the hunched chanyeol even closer, “i just want you.”

 

_you have said a long time ago, that even if we eventually drift out of each other’s lives, we will act as if we are still together. but what i meant to say was—  
till death do us part._

 

“i can’t live without you, yeol.” he mumbles softly, drifting away from state of consciousness.

 

“but you will, as you did many lives before.” chanyeol says, a little sadly.

 

he catches the fallen arms of the drunkard, and looks down— he’s already peacefully asleep.

 

he grins, and kisses the forehead of his lover.

 

“when i die, please don’t be too sad.”

 

_perchance, a million years later, i will walk through the woods, and the ember I collect from the soil will consist of your cartilage. likewise, you may be on another different star, and every day, counting forty-four sunrises and sunsets._

_our endings are like this, separated._

❀

as winter approaches, the two are hermited in their cabin in the mountains. they run on supplies of food that they have bought by selling calligraphies and paintings for cheap.

 

baekhyun huffs out white clouds, fading unto the cracked ceiling, so he pulls the blanket around him a little tighter. his brush deliberately writes down each character as he wills his hand to move above the pristine pages.

 

“it’s almost finished.” he beams and writes a little faster.

 

chanyeol tilts his head back, stroking a brush in his hand, and asks, “what’s the story about?”

 

“two performers, and their ten other friends. they sang songs so beautifully that they are known throughout the world.”

 

“is it a happy ending?”

 

“a happy start, a sad middle, but the ending has yet to be decided.”

 

chanyeol grins, “just leave it on a happy mark.”

 

baekhyun nods, and buries himself in bundles of blankets.

 

“what if… i was to leave you one day.” chanyeol says, walking over and leaning his head onto the shoulder of his companion.

 

“i’ll go anywhere you are.”

 

“even if it’s a scary and horrible place?”

 

baekhyun hums, and his heart beats a little faster.

 

“even if i don’t want you to be there?”

 

he nods, laughing, “i will annoy you to death.”

 

chanyeol takes baekhyun’s chin and covers his eyes.

 

their breaths slowly align, until chanyeol sucks in all of his breaths, and presses his lips onto his.

 

time freezes for both of them.

 

baekhyun feels scorching drops dripping onto his face.

 

_tears._

 

he pulls chanyeol closer as he thinks of the endings of their past lives.

 

_this time, i will definitely be with you, until the end._

❀

fatigue travelers often take shelter in their cabin when they are traveling on the paths of the mountains. kim junmyeon, likewise, is one of those exasperated travelers.

 

his hanbok carries the snow from another town, and his eyes glitter in wisdom unfitted for his age.

 

“which town did you travel from?” baekhyun asks, as a token of hospitality.

 

“from the capital of china.” the traveler answers.

 

“i’ve never traveled to china. what is it like?”

 

“it’s almost just like joseon.”

 

the novelist nods, presenting a bucket of tea as a present to accompany the traveler on his journey.

 

“it is time for me to depart.” junmyeon says, waving goodbye.

 

“farewell.” baekhyun sends off the traveler as he exits the gate.

 

before leaving, junmyeon says, “as a token of appreciation, if you ever need to send a letter to someone, no matter where they are. prepare a piece of paper, colored in red, and i will be here as your messenger.”

 

the novelist smiles knowingly and shakes his head, “it seems that in this life, i will not need it.”

 

when he lifts his eyes to the gates again, the traveler has already vanished.

 

a drowsy chanyeol appears at the door, and asks, “who was it?”

 

“just a traveler.”

❀

the plum blossom in the garden has bloomed unexpectedly early this year. heaps of snow gather on the branches, and the sharp edges of the branches tear through the wintry ashen sky, as flakes occasionally scatter when the wind breezes by. chanyeol stands in amidst of the fluttering snowflakes.

 

"baekhyun," He turns to smile at baekhyun, his glassy brown orbs curve like the crescent moons, "Is the breakfast ready?"  
worriedly, baekhyun stands on his tiptoes to rub his finger under the giant's eyes. his voice trembles, "you didn't get much sleep last night."

 

chanyeol forces out a few chuckles, and says, "sorry. i just have a bad headache."

 

his lover grasps his hands and rubs them against his gloves.

 

“your hands are cold.” under the white petals, baekhyun smiles warmly.

 

"i’m glad to have you as my hand warmer." chanyeol teases as he waltzes off to breakfast, chuckling.

 

however, baekhyun tugs on the edge of his overcoat, and pulls him back wordlessly.

 

chanyeol turns around and sees the conspicuous sadness on his lover’s face.

“are you afraid?”

 

baekhyun nods, lowering his head.

 

chanyeol pulls him into a hug, as his expression saddens. callous snowflakes incessantly fall on chanyeol's shoulders and sweep into the corners of his collar, damping his bare skin.

_there are no happy endings, and they are always sad. so please, just give me a very happy middle and a happy start._

“chanyeol, can we see the plum blossoms again next winter?”

 

“of course,” he kisses baekhyun’s forehead, as if sealing a promise.

 

“we will do that. we will be with each other forever.”

 

what’s _forever_?

 

sometimes, it’s just one second.

 

baekhyun feels the tremble before he was spun around.  
the arrow pierces his chanyeol’s kind, stubborn and stupid heart. even til death, chanyeol is still protecting him.  
they are still in an embrace; chanyeol’s head leaning on his shoulder. his blood is seeping through both of their shirts.  
the world is slipping away from him. he can feel the weakening of his lover’s breath.  
“yeol.” he holds him tightly, knowing that the soldiers are coming to kill him.

 

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t give you a happy ending in the end.”

 

his hand caresses his lover’s cold face.

 

soldiers are rushing toward them.

 

a sword slits the back of his throat.

 

to him, pain is nescient.

 

he feels himself gagging as he tries to voice out chanyeol’s name.

 

his leg collapses and both of them hit the ground. their arms are wrapped around each other.

 

distinctively, he can taste the rusty blood flooding from his throat. his lungs are drowning in his own blood.

 

his arm stretches out toward the white gradient sky, as if he's clutching onto that promise.

_forever._

a snowflake falls from the chillingly gray sky. his memories slowly start to sink back to him.

 

_“your name is byun baekhyun?”_

 

he shuts his eyes, but he can still undoubtedly trace the outline of chanyeol’s face.

 

_“i like you.”_

 

after so many lives, this is the ending, where they can both move on.

 

_“it’s just the rain.”_

 

just like he promised to sehun, they are together even til death.

 

_“baekhyun ah, you are all i have left.”_

 

because of chanyeol, he was able to feel happiness again.

 

 

baekhyun’s eyelids grow heavy, as sleep takes him away.

  
❀

park chanyeol, an artist, a forger, and a lover running out of time; byun baekhyun, a novelist, a murderer, and a coward who was always left behind.

 

in the ancient era of joseon, artist park chanyeol lived a cheerful life with his lover byun baekhyun, selling paintings and calligraphies, running away from the soldiers hunting them, and catching his lover by surprise with hugs and kisses; as he kept the memories of his perished friends close in his heart— the paintings from do kyungsoo and the laughters of oh sehun— he also learned of a life without them.

 

just like the letter had said, he dies.

 

so what— this is the natural order to this world— everyone dies.

 

whereas the novelist byun baekhyun, who, disfavored by fate, lived on pennies and dimes, spent summers autumns and winters writing the same book, and in the end, still met a sad ending. an ending where he was able to meet with chanyeol; an ending where he fulfilled his promise to his friend; and ending where he was able to stand by chanyeol in a ethereal forever.

 

in the rigid winter snow, under a blanket of white, chanyeol and baekhyun fall into a slumber in which tomorrow never comes.

 

each life is predetermined, by the actions of the ones that came before. everyone is bound to each other, from past to present, by kindness and transgression. because of the very regrets of baekhyun from another life, baekhyun and chanyeol were able to meet.

 

no matter what has happened in their previous lives, this byun baekhyun and park chanyeol have received an ending with no regret.

 

 

they were able to stand by each other, until the very _end_.

**Author's Note:**

> may all the love in the world go to the best beta lily, who earnestly edited this fic and cheered me on especially in these last couple days. also, huge thanks to joss and others who encouraged me in the process of writing. and an apology to the OP, for the huge tweaking of the prompt, but i hope you all will enjoy this historical au <3 (maybe think of it as the chanbaek version of moon lover?)


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